


Matchmaker

by spoonfulofstars



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BB-8 Ships It, Finn is a smol bean, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Poe is in denial, gays in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11376957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoonfulofstars/pseuds/spoonfulofstars
Summary: Finn doesn't know binary. BB-8 uses that to its advantage, for Poe's sake.





	Matchmaker

BB-8 liked to think that it was the primary example of a good droid. Wherever Poe went, it followed. Whatever Poe needed, it had. It was a bit like slavery, if you asked BB-8. But it was paid slaveryㅡ paid in the sense that it earned Poe’s, well, friendship. However, now was not the time to talk about droid equality, as BB-8’s friend and companion Poe Dameron, Resistance pilot extraordinaire and one of the most trusted operatives of General Leia Organa, was currently trying to eat his soup with a fork. Then again, ‘try’ was hardly the appropriate word. He was, more or less, stabbing at said lunch food and failing miserably at placing it anywhere near his mouth.

The cause of Poe’s distraction was diagnosed very quickly, and it was no surprise that the subject of his diversion of attention was none other than FN-2187, or Finn. He was doing laps around the mess hall, as it was the largest open space available in the Resistance base. BB-8 supposed that Finn’s shirtlessness was the main factor in Poe’s staring.

[That color does not compliment you.]

Poe startled and turned around to face the astromech droid. “Wha-?”

BB-8 gave an impatient whir. [Your shirt is orange. The soup is red. They are not complimentary colors.]

“The soup…” Poe looked down at the fork in his hand. “This is not a spoon,” he muttered bewilderedly to himself. Then, turning to BB-8, “why didn’t you tell me sooner, huh, buddy?”

[You seemed to be quite preoccupied with Friend-Finn.]

Poe spluttered and dabbed a napkin at his shirt collar before absentmindedly letting it drift to the ground. As if on cue, a passing sanitation droid beeped indignantly, and after thoroughly lecturing a sheepish Poe, picked up the offending item and whisked away, cussing all the while.

[You are not yourself today,] BB-8 said. Poe sighed and resumed his staring at the exercising ex-Stormtrooper.

“You wouldn’t understand. Maybe when you’re older, I tell you.”

BB-8 rolled over the pilot’s foot. [I am over 30 years old!] Then ignoring Poe’s wince, it added [Besides, I am well acquainted with your human pleasures of the flesh.] Poe, who had finally picked up the correct utensil and began to properly eat his meal, dropped it with a clatter.

“You what now?”

[The human pleasures of the flesh. I have extensive knowledge on the subject. In fact, I once happened upon a pilot and a girl from engineering performing sexual inter-]

“Okay, that’s enough!” Several people dining nearby looked over at Poe’s outburst, so he lowered his voice. “BB-8, if you’ve been hanging out with Jess again, I swear, she’s a bad influence.”

[I have. But she is not the source of my intelligence. I am naturally all-knowing.]

“Look.” Poe glanced over at where Finn had stopped jogging to drink from his water bottle. “I don’t want to… you know, with him.”

[Have sexual intercourse, you mean.]

“Would you stop saying that? But yeah, Finn’s just a friend. He’s Friend-Finn.”

[He is Friend-Finn to me, yes. But to you, he is…] BB-8 paused to search its vocabulary. [Crush-Finn.]

“I don’t have a crush on him! I- you- _argh!"_

And with that, Poe stomped away, soup forgotten at the table.

BB-8 knew from that point on that it would have to do something about the situation. If Poe remained this distracted through their mission runs, then disaster would surely strike. BB-8 was not too keen about being blown to bits. The very next day, it left its charging station early to begin its self-assigned task. A good twenty minutes later, BB-8’s target was acquired.

[Hello, Friend-Finn.]

Finn looked up from his omelet. “Hey, BB-8. How goes it? Shouldn’t you be with Poe or something?”

The droid beeped, annoyed. [I do not have to always operate with Friend-Poe. I am also an independent droid. Anyhow, I am here to educate you.]

“I’m just gonna pretend I understood that.” Finn grinned despite his confusion. “What’s up?”

[Nothing is up. The atmosphere of D’Qar, perhaps, but it could also be down depending on one’s whereabouts. But let us discuss something else. Mainly Friend-Poe’s feelings for you.]

“Sure, sure. I’m good also, but I think this omelet could use a little more salt.”

[You see, Friend-Poe has been very preoccupied recently. I have narrowed the causes down to you. I have several suggestions on how we could amend Friend-Poe’s problem.]

“Right? I mean, I’m not complaining, except I kind of am. This is way better than the First Order slop I had, but _damn_ the food here could use some flavor. It’s like eating cardboard! My old meals might not’ve been the most exciting, but at least they tasted like _something_.”

[The first option would be for you to cut off all communications with Friend-Poe. This would include and not be limited to: talking, looking, and being within fifty square feet of him. It would also be beneficial if you ceased to exercise whilst not wearing upper body clothing. Friend-Poe rather likes to stare at your abdominal region in that circumstance.]

Finn nodded. “I know how you feel. Now that Starkiller’s been, well, killed, I’ve been feeling pretty useless. Maybe I should learn how to cook?”

[The second option is more preferable. Ideally, you and Friend-Poe realize you have feelings for each other. It is quite simple.] BB-8 tilted its head in an almost playful manner. [Afterwards, I assume you will adopt his last name. And— hello there Friend-Poe— it is only natural that kissing and eventually sexual intercourse will ensue.]

“Hey, Poe! BB-8 and I have been talking. ‘Bout time you woke up, I have absolutely no idea what it’s saying.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Poe replied, glaring at the astromech. “It was just some nonsense anyway.”

BB-8 chirped and gave him the droid version of a middle finger: lighter extended but not lit. Poe responded in kind, and the rest of breakfast was spent peacefully, save for a comment from BB-8 here and there. Poe could only thank the Maker that Finn did not understand binary.

Despite its slow progress (or lake thereof), BB-8 was determined to accomplish its goal. Today it may have been laughing at Finn’s jokes in favor of half-assed X-wing repairs, but tomorrow it could be forgetting to check an EVA tether and floating forever into deep space, life support eventually running out as ebullism took hold of the human body and death arrived swiftly for Poe Dameron. BB-8 may not have too much creativity, but its knowledge reservoir certainly wasn’t lacking when it came to space. A week after its first attempt, BB-8 could be found once more trailing after Finn.

[Hello again, Friend-Finn.]

“Hey, Beebee!” Finn peered down at the droid over the bowl in his hands. “I’m trying to make something called, uh…” he flitted over to the book propped up on the counter, “apple pie?”

[I had not known you were serious in you culinary endeavors.]

“I’ve really gotta learn your robot language,” Finn muttered, more to himself than anything.

[That would be beneficial,] BB-8 admitted, following Finn to the kitchen island where a bowl of fruit perched on top of the steel table top. He picked up several apples and, after giving each a once-over, selected two of the ripest ones. [If you could understand me, perhaps yours and Friend-Poe’s relationship would begin sooner rather than later.]

“Hey!” Finn spun around, startling BB-8 into rolling a foot back. “I know that word! You said…” he attempted to recreate what the droid had said, falling short of imitating the sound and nearly insulting it instead. “That means Poe, right? Or, erm, Friend-Poe.”

[You are learning!] BB-8 whirred happily. [You are learning slower than a below-average three year old human child, but you are at least learning!]

Finn interpreted the droid’s higher pitch of chirping as an affirmation and whooped, doing a little victory dance. “I'm not so dumb now, huh, little robot?”

It would probably have been a strange sight for anyone coming into the kitchens at the moment; Finn, unabashedly wearing a flowery apron and dancing around the counters, singing loudly in a slightly off-key tone, and BB-8, rolling around in an attempt to not get stepped on, a layer of flour steadily gathering on its body. So imagine Poe Dameron’s surprise when, instead of the kitchen droids he’d been expecting, the door opened to the sight of Finn baking.

Something warm curled up inside Poe’s chest, and he was hit with a sudden domesticity.

[You are always interrupting me when I am about to teach Friend-Finn,] BB-8 chided. Then, over the sound of Finn exclaiming “That's my name!” it added [it is almost as if you do not want to tell Friend-Finn about your feelings.]

“It'll ruin everything.”

“No it won't.”

Poe jumped. His heart pounded so loudly that he was sure it could be heard a galaxy away. “Wh-what?”

Finn stopped his stirring but paid him no attention. “No, I'm pretty sure I put in the right amount of sugar. It says ‘five tablespoons’ right here.”

The flicker of hope that had ignited at Finn’s words quickly went out. Right. He was just talking about the baking.

[Your heart rate has elevated dramatically in the past minute,] BB-8 noted, [shall I assume that the cause is the close proximity with Friend-Finn?]

Poe sent BB-8 a withering glower and went to join Finn at the kitchen counter. “You look like you need some help there, buddy. My hands are ready and willing.”

BB-8 emitted a high-pitched sound somewhat akin to giggling. [I find this moment appropriate to quote Friend-Jess in saying this; that’s what she sa-]

“Okay, out!”

The door slid shut in front of BB-8. An experimental nudge confirmed what it thought; a lock had been set in place.

Oh, well. There was nothing more it could do, BB-8 reasoned to itself as it grudgingly set off down the corridor. Poe seemed content in his misery.

In the end, Finn and Poe’s relationship was, in fact, caused by BB-8. Ironically, it hadn’t even had an intentional hand in the whole thing.

It came down to this: Poe, tired and not quite used to being back on land after his and BB-8’s return from a two day mission, neglected to watch where he was going. BB-8 had been running low on battery and was intent on making it back to its charging station, and anyone in its way could damn well be bowled over for all BB-8 cared. The two collided.

Later, BB-8 would play the scene over and over in hologram form, but it swore that Poe fell in _slow motion_ , right into the ready arms of Finn. “Well, hello there,” Finn said, and lack of sleep combined with the adrenaline rush after completing a mission led Poe straight to Finn’s lips.

BB-8 made a mental note to take the next day off. After all, it deserved a break from all that matchmaking stress.

**Author's Note:**

> *rises from the ground in a puff of smoke* I live! After months (or has it been a year?) of a lack of motivations and schoolschoolschool, I've gotten back into the swing of things. Hopefully, summer means I can start posting more. Most of it will probably be small little fics, although I do have a series planned for StormPilot. Yep, I've been swept into Star Wars. I KNOW I'M LATE I HAD AN UNCULTURED CHILDHOOD! Those of you that were following Always, I am sincerely sorry about, well, everything. It was a bad period in my life, and I honestly couldn't bring myself to write more. Because of that, I've now decided to not post chapter fics unless I've written the entire thing beforehand. Thank you for understanding, and keep your eyes open for more stories in the future!


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